Mistress of the Heart
by Kato and Koba
Summary: Anne has been given a second chance but it comes with a price. She has no powers, no privileges and she is not allowed to see her daughter. Will she be able to overcome the odds stacked against her and win the King's love and trust once more? Or will she lose him to the scheming snakes of the Tudor court forever?
1. An Unwilling Compromise

Disclaimer: I have no ownership of the characters from The Tudors.

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><p><strong>14th May 1536, Tower of London<strong>

Despite being a warm May morning, the skies over London were a dreary grey and threatened to rain. Inside the Tower of London, Queen Anne was deep in prayer at the make shift altar that had been erected in her prison cell, her spirit as dull as the sky up above. She couldn't help but contemplate her fate. Earlier this month she had been in her bloom as the May Queen, yet here she was now incarcerated like a common prisoner for treason against the King, her husband. It was like a bad dream that she couldn't wake up from.

She prayed daily.

Deeply.

With great devotion.

It was the only thing that brought her comfort in these dark days. She would ask God for clarity. What had she done that was so wicked that she deserved this? Had she done anything at all? Was she being tested? Like God tested Moses in the desert? Was she being sacrificed for the greater good, destined to become a martyr for his glorious cause? Or had she been completely mistaken? Was she now entirely forsaken?

By both God and her husband, the King?

She could not bring herself to think that God could be so cruel! This was not God's work. It was the Devil's. The Devil and his servant, Thomas Cromwell! It was all his doing. He had poisoned the King against her by whispering venom in his ear. Him and that witch, Jane Seymour, who seduced him with honeyed words and enticing kisses. They said she was an innocent in all this, but Anne always suspected that Jane was a snake in the grass.

What would happen to her family if she was found guilty and condemned to death? Especially her brother, who had been accused alongside her of the most disgusting and vile imaginings. Incest! The King was truly mad to believe her capable of such depravities. And what of her darling Elizabeth? What would happen to her as the daughter of a traitor? Surely Henry would not forsake his own flesh and blood? But then their treatment of Mary echoed in her mind and she clutched her hands together even tighter in order to relieve her anxiety.

She knew exactly what the King was capable of, and it frightened her.

_Lord God, _

_Please protect my family and keep them safe. _

_Watch over my daughter and keep her from harm. _

_Give me the strength to persevere and preserve my soul._

_Into your hands I commend my spirit._

_Amen._

She kept repeating the prayer over and over, as though it were a mantra. The rosary she held between her hands dug into her flesh but she didn't care. She continued to pray in hope that God would hear her pathetic pleading.

But suddenly a loud raucous from outside her cell roused her from her meditation and she stood up to investigate what was happening.

There was some sort of commotion occurring and she could hear two people arguing with each other. She cast off her glistening black veil and listened attentively at the door, careful to hear every word being exchanged.

"I wish to speak to the Queen" a voice demanded. Anne's eyes flickered instantly at hearing these words. The voice was soft and feminine but the lady in question spoke to the guard with all the authority of a Prince. The guard was stammering in his response.

"Bbb...bbbut Milady" he began to stutter, not sure whether he was being tricked or not. "The King says that she is to have no visitors save for her chaplain"

"The King has given me permission. You do not believe me? I have his written authority here, stamped by his royal seal. Open it if you dare, but do not think I will forget about this impertinence in the future" the lady warned with steely determination.

"No no no of course not, Milady. Give me one moment" the man began to back track, trying to coax the woman into his good books. Anne backed away from the door at the sound of his rattling key ring. It sounded as though he was fumbling through each and everyone of them in his quest to seek the one that opened her cell door.

"Here we go!" he announced and the clink of metal upon metal informed Anne that the key had been slotted into the keyhole. With an ear piercing, rusty old creak, the door swung open.

Anne's curiosity was peaked.

She could see the figure of the woman standing in the threshold waiting for the guard to move out of the way. Yet she could not see the woman's face. Instinctively, Anne looked over the woman's garments and observed she was wearing a turquoise hooded cloak made from the best Venetian velvet with the finest pink and gold damask skirt peaking out from beneath the fabric. From this, she insinuated that the lady must be someone very wealthy or from some ancient, noble family.

Her mind began to race at the possibilities of who it could be.

Was it Lady Mary, come to revel over her demise? Or could it be young Catherine Brandon, the Duchess of Suffolk, coming to beg for forgiveness for the part her husband played in her downfall? Or perhaps even her aunt the Dowager Countess of Norfolk, come to offer her some kinds words in her final days?

As the guard moved the lady stepped inside the room almost hesitantly. But as she did, she pulled back her hood and her glorious golden curls immediately cascaded down over her ivory shoulders and she shot her a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Milady" Jane Seymour greeted with a short bob of a curtsey.

Anne was almost foaming at the mouth in outrage!

How dare she come into her cell. How dare she show such lack of respect. First to steal her husband from beneath her very nose. Then her crown. Now finally she had the nerve to come and have one last gloat _tête_-à-_tête_. How dare she address her with anything other than 'Your Majesty' and not honour her with a low and grovelling curtsey.

She did well to bite her tongue and kept her face as a mask of stoic serenity, hiding all the bubbling feelings that lay beneath her calm exterior.

Jane took a quick look at her surroundings and immediately decided that they were not to her tastes. _How sad it must be to reside in here,_ she thought. Sure, it was comfortable enough but the place lacked heart and soul. There was no love here. No emotion. _And what torment to be locked up in the very same room that was once her coronation chamber_, she lamented. She began to make herself at home and pulled out a chair from the table on which Anne's untouched breakfast still lay. She hadn't had the stomach to eat this morning. Everything seemed to taste like ash to her at the moment and she found no enjoyment in food or wine any more.

Jane looked at the food with great distaste, as though anything less than a King's banquet would not satisfy her hunger.

"You are well?" Jane enquired half heartedly, as though it were just habit to ask the question and it no longer had any real meaning.

"As well as can be expected in such circumstances" was Anne's studied reply. She didn't think for one minute that Jane had any honest reason to be here. She was probably just here to gloat, comparing her own rising star to Anne's falling one. Either that or to spy on the Queen and report anything that could be used as evidence against her at her trial.

"Good. That's very good" Jane nodded to herself, earning a raised eye brow from Anne.

"How is my husband, the King?" she dared to ask, sharply reminding the pale girl that in the eyes of God she was still Henry's lawful wife and Queen of England.

"He is in perfect health and as merry as a school boy" Jane smiled naughtily, as though she knew some mischievous secret that only she was privy to.

Anne's blood began to boil at such words.

_Merry? How could he be merry? Is he not angry about my supposed infidelity? Or sad at my alleged betrayal of him? Or guilty for making such false allegations about me in the first place? He should be anything **but** merry. How dare he be merry!_

"Why are you here, Jane?" Anne suddenly demanded with al the authority of a Queen. She had tired of all the politeness and formality that had to be exchanged between them. She was fully aware that she was living on borrowed time and she couldn't be doing with pussyfooting around in such circumstances.

Jane seemed a little shocked at Anne's bluntness but she could not blame her for it.

"The King has asked me to negotiate with you on his behalf" she began to explain, tapping her long, elegant fingers against the oak table top in a comforting rhythm.

"Negotiations?" Anne queried, utterly confused with the situation that was unravelling before her.

"Yes. Now, luckily for you I am good at not repeating other people's mistakes. I learn lessons very well" Jane began as she poured herself a goblet of Burgundy wine that sat in Anne's silver decanter. "And when you were to be found guilty, and believe me you would have been found guilty, I was to marry the King" she revealed in a rather cold, clinical manner that Anne found most distressing.

A deathly shiver ran down her spine at these words which caused the fine hairs on her arms to stand up on edge. "W_hen you were to be found guilty, and believe me you would have been found guilty, I was to marry the King". _So her fate had been predetermined? She wouldn't have even been given a fair trial.

She would have been cast off and discarded like rotten meat. Was that all she was worth?

Jane continued,

"But you see, what he has done to you and Catherine, he can do to me. And I would rather like to keep my head, thank you very much. So, despite my family's protests I have agreed to become the King's mistress, or Mistress of the Heart as he likes to call me" she smiled at his boyish sentimentality.

Anne thought she was going to be sick and clutched at her stomach in order to relieve the pressure.

"But where does that leave you? Well the King could still execute you for treason but then he would be mocked and feared throughout Christendom. And what princess would want to marry a man that so easily discards his wives? So...we thought it best to give you one last chance" Jane announced, deliberating the last sentence a lot more slowly for dramatic effect.

"He has given me another chance? Oh saints be praised!"

Anne fell to her knees and crossed herself in thanks to the good Lord for keeping her safe and vowed in her mind to always be good and honour him as much as she possibly could in return for this blessing. She had a second chance and she would do everything in her power to make it worth while. She felt like she could weep but the thought of seeing Elizabeth's cherubic little face elated her with delirious joy and she couldn't help but cackle manically with happiness.

_Oh, to hold my girl in my arms once more!_

"But there are to be conditions" Jane coolly interrupted before taking a sip of the wine.

She savoured the rich, sweet taste and let it dance upon her tongue before clearing her throat and beginning once more. "Obviously the King needs an heir. He says that if you fail to be with child before next May Day, you are to be gone from his sight for ever. Also, although you are Queen in name, you will not be given any powers nor any of your queenly privileges until he sees fit. And your powers and privileges will be transferred on to myself as his mistress. And finally, you are to have no communication with your daughter."

Her elevation had completely evaporated with these terms and conditions. This wasn't a marriage. It was blackmail.

These conditions meant she would have to sit by idly whilst Henry got to sew his wild oats with this little wench who sat before her. She was completely and utterly powerless without a friend in the world to help her. Was this to be her life now? Was this a life at all? She had always considered herself a free spirit. She was a passionate creature, not completely wild but she wouldn't have considered herself tame either. She liked to think that she had always had control over her life and destiny, but these terms felt like shackles that would chain her down to a half life. She was to have no opinions, no independence, no voice at all to speak with. She would essentially be a slave. A broodmare.

Was he trying to break her spirit?

And the threat of still being discarded if she did not succeed in her duty of bearing him a healthy son left a nasty taste in her mouth. Could she live like this?

"What would happen to my brother if I were to consent to this?" she questioned.

"He would be freed of course, as would all the other men who were accused alongside you. But he would be banished to the continent and now be allowed to return to our fair island on pain of death" Jane announced.

_Well, that was good anyway. At least the King can't get to him if he is safely overseas. But can I really let this woman steal my husband's love and affection for me? Can I live in an unhappy marriage, where I cannot even be myself and am merely there to be the vessel of his heir? Not as lover, or companion or even friend? Just a womb?_

"I cannot share him with another woman" was Anne's simple reply, her voice trembling with fear. She knew this would be a dangerous thing to say but she had to say it aloud. She held her breath for the rebuke.

Jane merely took it in her stride.

"You must do, Milady. Or else he will kill you" she stated, but she had to look down at the floor as she spoke her next words, "And your daughter" she solemnly declared.

It felt like a dagger had been plunged into her heart. She had her principals, and she would not allow her pride to be wounded for any man, no matter how grand or majestic he was. She would gladly suffer a traitor's fate than live this half life she was being forced into. But she would not allow her beautiful baby girl to suffer for her mother's pride or her father's insanity.

For this was complete madness.

Even Jane's mournful tone seemed to agree that the King was not in his right mind if he was willing to kill his own child based on the sins of her mother.

Anne let out a loud, defeated sigh.

"Then I fear I must comply. Although you must understand it is against my will" she announced.

That was the day that Anne Boleyn lost her spirit, and she would face many more hardships throughout the next twelve months.


	2. Final Farewells and New Beginnings

**Auhor's Note: Thank you so much for your kind reviews, they really mean the world to me and I am so grateful for everyone who took the time to write to me. I am truly overwhelmed.**

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><p>What first struck Anne as she took her first step out of the tower wasn't the warm rays of the sun that warmed her now pale cheek, nor the soft breeze that whipped her ebony hair against her face. It was how fresh and crisp the air tasted out here. After almost a month stuck in that stuffy and stifling apartment, the cool spring air was like a spoonful of sorbet that completely refreshed and invigorated her senses.<p>

It felt peculiar to be out and about again. Her legs had stiffened from the lack of exercise and she had noticed that her thighs had grown flabby from the inactivity. Even now they felt like jelly as she walked away from the dreaded building that she daren't look back at. It was as though they didn't trust that their mistress wouldn't betray them and send them straight back into that dark, dismal cell.

Her heart wouldn't let her forgive what had happened to her this month, but her head exercised caution. After all, she was well aware that this could all just be a clever plot to get her to let her guard down. But every step she took away from the confines of her own private hellhole, the more liberated she felt.

She was free at long last.

As she arrived at the great gate, she was met by her jailor, Master Kingston, who greeted her with a discreet bow. She stood tall and proud with her head held high, trying to remember what it felt like to be the Queen.

"Master Kingston, where is my brother?" she demanded, desperate for any news on the wellbeing of her beloved sibling. Although it had not been outright confirmed, Anne had been under the impression that they would have been released at the same time. How she longed to see his bright face and charming smile once more. Perhaps it would be for the last time?

_Is he aware that I am to have a second chance? Does he know what sad terms surround this sacred chance? _she pondered sadly. The thought made her even more anxious and determined to see her brother one last time.

"Yet to be released, your Majesty" was his simple reply.

Anne bit her lip.

_I **must** see him, _she thought, _or I fear I might lose the will to live._

"May I visit him?" she desperately requested. She was well aware she was losing what little composure she was trying to retain in their conversation.

"Your Majesty..." Kingston began despondently but Anne cut him off before he could refuse her.

"Please Master Kingston" she pleaded, dropping to her knees and taking his hands within hers, "I do not know if I should ever see him again and I would like to make my final farewell to him" she begged.

Kingston looked down into those beautiful onyx eyes of hers that he had always admired from afar. Usually they glistened like rare jewels dancing in the sunlight, but today they were so mournful and sad. She reminded him so much of a doe, so fragile with those large, soulful eyes, that he felt utterly compelled to grant her wish despite knowing the trouble it would surely bring him.

Anne could barely contain her excitement at the thought of seeing her brother again, and no sooner had his cell door been opened that she burst forth within.

"Anne?!" George exclaimed in pure wonderment. He had been sat at the small desk that had been granted to him for writing his correspondences. He had been in the middle of penning a particularly long letter to his father to explain what future plans lay ahead of him, when he had been interrupted by the most beautiful surprise that God could grant a wretched soul in a time like this. The mere sight of his beaming sister was truly a treat for his sore, wearied eyes.

"Oh George, I feared I would never see you again" she cried, running into her brother's warm embrace and allowing him to envelope her within his strong arms. She inhaled his scent deeply, but was repulsed to find that his usual fragrant scent of rose and cloves had long disappeared and was now replaced by the stench of stale sweat and damp must.

"You are well?" he asked, lifting her head from his shoulder and taking a step back to look down into her face.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. But what of you? They did not hurt you?" she desperately enquired, lifting her hands to his face and examining it for any signs of wounds or stress. He seemed perfectly fine except for the dark bags that hung below his usually bright eyes. His demeanour, however, seemed very affected and she noticed he looked tired and utterly defeated.

"No. But poor Smeaton was not as lucky as we" he lamented, trying not to think about the tortures that they put that sweet, innocent boy through, all for the ego of a tyrannical King.

"Poor Mark" Anne sighed and crossed herself out of respect for the suffering of her sweet darling musician, "Do you know what is to happen to you yet?"

"I am to be released tomorrow and given safe passage to Paris. If I am not welcomed there, I shall travel to the Lower countries and try to make an honest living for myself" he revealed and this seemed to please her. She nodded her head and repeated 'good' a great number of times in order to reassure him as well as herself.

"And what of your wife?" she pressed.

_That wicked bitch whose deprived accusations has brought all this about, _she scowled. How she wished she could repay the deed and see Jane Parker suffer, lonely in the tower without a hope in the world. _But no Anne, her time will come. Their time will come,_ she had to remind herself. For now she had to focus on the positive.

"She refuses to come with me" George replied half heartedly, as though it made no difference to him whether she came or not. In truth, he was glad to be rid of the sour faced wench with her pinched face and whining voice. What man could be happy being married to such a nag of a wife?

"Do not worry, I shall make sure she gets her comeuppance, I can guarantee you that" Anne assured him and George raised an eyebrow in concern.

But before he could say a word in his wife's defence, footsteps approached the room and they were interrupted by Master Kingston.

"Your Majesty, it is time to leave" came his soft reminder.

He hated to disturb such an emotional reunion but he knew that if he didn't hurry things along it would be his head on the block instead of hers. Anne nodded her head in acknowledgement and Kingston decided to give them their final minute in peace.

"I fear I shall never see you again" Anne stated mournfully, barely able to look her brother in the eye as her own began to glisten with unborn tears. She had done well to hold her emotions in for so long but now her good work was being betrayed by a trifling sniffle that she could not contain.

A stray tear splashed on to her cheek.

George smiled at her kindly and brushed the tear away with his thumb.

"We will always be with each other. In here" he whispered in her ear, pressing his hand lovingly over her heart. She savoured the touch.

"Always remember, you are a Boleyn. Nothing gets us down" he reminded her with an affectionate kiss upon the cheek and she embraced him deeply one last time.

And as Anne left the cell with the knowledge that she would probably never see her brother again in this life time, his words of encouragement rang loudly in her ears. These words would nourish her. They would spur her on in her darkest moments. They would reassure her in her times of doubt.

_I am a Boleyn. Nothing gets us down!_

It was to be her new mantra.

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><p>King Henry sat in his privy chamber with Jane Seymour and had left strict instructions with the guards that they were not to be interrupted for any reason for the next couple of hours. He had craved some private alone time with his latest love and he hoped that he might be able to have a quick fumble or two with her without any fear of being interrupted.<p>

He needn't have bothered.

Whilst he had tried in earnest to coax her into sitting upon his lap, Jane had remained stringent upon the matter. He could barely even tempt her with a glass of his recently imported claret for Jane's brothers had warned her of the dangers of drinking alcohol with men in private, and Jane had protested that she must be a good girl until she and her family were compensated for her loss of reputation and social standing.

"Will you come to my bed tonight, Jane?" he enquired with all the hope and determination of a lustful youth.

He just couldn't control himself around her.

She was so beautiful. The way the sun's ray bounced of her golden locks and cast an angelic halo around her. How her hair cascaded over her exquisite ivory décolletage. How her pert bosom heaved when she became overwhelmed. How her plump coral lips formed into a sweet yet equally provocative smile. He needed to own her mind, body soul. And he intended on doing just that.

"You know I will not, Majesty" she gently chided him albeit with a good natured smirk. She certainly couldn't fault his perseverance.

Jane was no fool, though she often let people think she was. She knew that men were threatened by power and intelligence, especially if these virtues were found in women. She only had to look at Queen Anne for confirmation of this. The only power that was acceptable for a woman to wield was her virtue, and once she lost this she was powerless again for the rest of her life. So she carefully hid her intellect behind a façade of sweet docility and quiet obedience, careful to dangle her one advantage for all to see yet always keeping it out of reach until she had all that she desired.

She would not allow herself to be cast off penniless and shamed like her predecessor's in the King's affections. Bessie Blount. Eleanor Luke. Madge Sheldon. Even the Queen's own sister, Mary Boleyn. No, Jane had sold her virtue to the highest bidder, but she wouldn't let her goods be usurped until every last penny had been paid.

She was a shrewd politician and a calculating strategist.

The court would soon learn this.

"I've told you, you must call me Henry" he sighed, both frustrated by her lack of co-operation and her refusal to call him by his Christian name. She would not even allow him this one intimate gesture. If he was lucky, she would grace him by allowing him to kiss her hand or even rarer, oblige him with a quick peck on the cheek. But she never allowed him to kiss her on the mouth, never mind giving her a French kiss or God permit allowing him to take her maidenhead.

It drove him crazy!

But it made him want her all the more.

"Henry is a named reserved solely for the bedchamber" she wisely reminded him, "And I will not visit yours until I have security"

"But Jane..." he tried to plead his case.

He knew she was young and naïve. She didn't know how wide reaching the lust and appetites of a King ran. If only he could explain to her the importance of consummating their love then he was sure that she would yield. He wanted to be her first, to show her how beautiful love making could be. He promised to be gentle and considerate towards her, and he would woo her with finery and poetry before he made her his one and only lover.

"It may seem a little thing to you My Lord, but it is a great deal to me. Once I have lay with you I am considered damage goods. No man will want to marry me and I will live out my life as a shamed spinster" she revealed.

"I would never forsake you" he instantly swore, believing that he could and would be faithful to his beautiful, innocent Jane. This time he was so sure that she was the one that would keep his heart for ever and always.

"It is the way of the world, you know that as well as I do. We can never predict what will happen tomorrow" she wearily proclaimed. "Give me land and a befitting title, and I will be yours for all eternity" she promised.

"And a crown is not good enough for you?" he enquired bitterly, the sting of her initial rejection of his marriage proposal was still fresh in his mind.

_After all, what woman wouldn't want to be Queen of all the realm? Well, an honest one if truth be told._

And even though his enormous pride was still wounded on the matter, it warmed him to know that she wasn't after his crown. She wasn't a gold digger or social climber like all the others, namely that whore of a woman whom he had the misfortune of calling his present wife. No, his Jane was an honest girl who loved him for the man he was, not for the crown he wore. It made him love her all the more.

Sensing the tension that was coming between them, Jane decided to cosset him by sitting upon the arm of his chair and taking hold of his hands, smiling that honeyed smile that came so naturally to her and kissing them in reverence.

"I do not want a crown. I have never been ambitious, My Lord, even as a child. Edward wanted to be on the King's Council and Thomas wanted to be a rich nobleman. But I was always content with the thought of living quietly in the country with the man I love surrounded by many children" she reminisced, thinking back to her happy childhood and how everything seemed so simple and peaceful back then.

Henry was touched by her sincerity.

"Oh Jane, so sweet. So pure. You would have made such a noble Queen" he smiled, chucking her under the chin. "Now, tell me more about your Wiltshire upbringing" he coaxed her, smoothing her golden curls down and giving her an affectionate peck on the cheek as she began to recant her childhood memories.


	3. An Unwelcome Return

**Author's Note:** _Thank you so much for the reviews everyone, I was so shocked and humbled to be getting such lovely response to this story. I only hope I can live up to your expectations (hence the length of time between posting). Please keep reviewing :)_

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><p>31st May 1536,<p>

Although May Day had long been over, King Henry's new obsession with the concept of spring, rebirth and fertility had become so fervent that he ordered for his entire palace to be forever in the depths of spring. He saw this period of his life as a new start, a second chance. He had eliminated the threat of Katherine earlier this year and now that Anne had succumbed to his will, he was determined to start afresh with Jane as the eternal mistress of his heart.

He felt like he could do anything. His mind was sharp and his thoughts were clear. Everything made sense to him now.

He could feel the beginnings of a Golden Age coming.

A time of truth, beauty and logic.

A true English Renaissance.

The great hall was spectacularly decorated with garlands of ivy and myrtle leaves suspended from brightly coloured ribbons, whilst bouquets of marigold, irises and roses were scattered all around the place and sprigs of rosemary and lavender adorned the walls. The sprigs were even starting to become the latest fashion accessory at court, with several gentleman pinning them to their broaches and wearing them upon their doublets for both visual appeal and the fresh scent they let forth.

The place was a buzzing with chatter, laughter and lively music as the King sat upon his throne and presided over the merry party who drank, danced and debated before him. Yet despite the cheerful and amorous atmosphere, there was a clear underlying tension in the room that could be cut with a butter knife.

The whole court was waiting with baited breath for the spectacle they were sure was to occur when an old face would reunite with the King.

And when the horns blew a fanfare to announce the return of the Queen, the whole place fell eerily silent as all eyes darted to the door in anticipation.

"Her Majesty the Queen" a voice cried out.

The vultures prepared themselves for the wondrous entertainment that the return of a disgraced Queen back to court would ensue. Many failed to conceal their smug looks and vicious grins. Some even wore them proudly.

Anne walked in slowly through the room with all the grace that she could muster despite her humble regalia. Many of the courtiers were astonished at her attire. There was no tiara or crown perched nobly upon her head, nor jewels hanging from her swan like neck. There were no rich or sensual fabrics wrapped around her waist, nor no vibrant colours to offset her raven hair.

Instead she came in dressed in a gown of plain black wool as per the King's request.

He had planned this moment down to the last detail.

She was no longer permitted to wear decadent or expensive clothes. He had chosen the dress specifically to make her look more humble and it was meant to be a symbol of her atonement. She walked along the cold, stone floor in bare feet in order to illustrate that she was casting off the riches and comfort of court life so she could submit herself to the will of the King and her God. She was to dress like a pilgrim, seeking God's grace and holiness until the King was satisfied that her soul had been spiritually nourished. He wanted her to repent of her wicked ways. Of her sharp tongue and quick temper. He needed her to be obedient and humble towards him.

_Well, this ought to humble her enough,_ he smirked. _The knowledge of having to return back to the wolf's lair in sheep's clothing would humble even the boldest of men!_

But he also had ulterior motives for this debasement. He had recently become aware that many people at court were trying to play him for their own personal agendas and this would not do. He had orchestrated this spectacle to serve as a stark reminder to every one who was watching.

_Everything you have is only yours because I allow it. Any thing I give to you I can easily take back. Remember that!_

But despite it's intended psychological torment, it was all like water off a duck's back to Anne.

She was used to the court's accusing eyes and sharp tongues. And as such, she wore a mask, determined that her face should not portray the feelings and thought that lay deep below it's steely surface in order to protect her mind and her sanity.

She knew all to well that she couldn't let her enemies sense even an inch of weakness within her. If they did, they would all pounce upon her like starving, rabid dogs and they would tear her limb from limb. She knew that should she fail again, her head would be served to them upon a silver platter whilst they feasted upon her bones.

So she walked proudly, her head held up defiantly high. She even dared to smile her infamous lopsided smirk at those who could bare to give her eye contact. Some commented upon how dignified she looked, others remarked that she appeared haughty and smug. But no one could deny that she cut a remarkable figure as she approached the King and presented herself before him.

Anne felt a strange spark of anger overcome her as she looked Henry in his icy blue eyes for that split second before she fell into a beautiful low curtsy. This was probably the most humiliating aspect of the evening for her.

Having to submit herself to such a cruel man, a man who now had complete power over her mind, body and soul. She felt as though she was making a deal with the Devil himself.

And as per Henry's instructions, once she had held her curtsy for a fitting amount of time, she further postulated herself by lowering herself on to the floor and spreading her arms into a cross before him. This was her final submission and she felt every last bit of her pride and honour pour out of her body as her nose touched the dirty floor beneath her.

Chapuys, who had eyes like a hawk, couldn't help throw a victorious glance towards Thomas Boleyn which didn't go unnoticed. _Finally, now he knows how my Lady Mary feels,_ he gleeful thought, and then cast his eyes back to the spectacle before him. He couldn't help but smirk upon seeing how much the King seemed to enjoy watching his Queen's grovel at his feet. _Perhaps all is not lost after all._

After a short time, Henry decided to speak.

"Wife" he greeted cordially, coming down from off his throne and helping her on to her feet.

Anne stood up to her full height, her head held high and her shoulders thrown back to emphasise her natural regality. "You are well I trust?" he politely enquired.

"I am most refreshed, husband. I thank you for your hospitality during my stay in the Tower. My rooms were certainly befitting for a Queen" was her diplomatic reply. She was speaking as though Henry had sent her to the country for her health, not that he had locked her away in a dungeon for treason.

Some gasped in shock at her boldness and forthright manner, but Henry burst out into hearty laughter.

"I am glad to find that you have not abandoned your good humour during your ordeal" he smiled approvingly, offering his hand to her and inclining his head towards the throne. She felt a small inkling of hope light up in her chest as she lay her hand within his.

The two ascended their thrones in silence and with a wave of his majestic hand, Henry ordered for the music and festivities to continue. Anne waited patiently, if anxiously, for Henry to resume their conversation but it soon became clear to her that he was ignoring her completely.

Gentleman came and went.

Cromwell.

Chapuys.

Brandon.

Yet none of them would even look her in the eye let alone bow to her or try to woo her favour with a compliment. It was quite clear that any authority or influence she may have had before had long disappeared now. She clutched on to the arm of her chair, her hand resembling a claw. Her anxiety was getting the better of her.

"Husband, I trust you have been well these past few weeks" she weakly began, trying to engage him in simple chatter. "I enquired after you but..." her sentence was cut short by one of the serving boys approaching the King with a long bow.

"What is it boy?" Henry softly demanded.

"I beg your pardon, your Majesty, but Lady Derbyshire desires a word with you" the doe eyed boy relayed and Henry's eyes lit up with delight.

"Bring her forth" Henry declared, and the boy nodded his head in obedience and went to seek his mistress.

"Lady Derbyshire?" Anne coolly queried, trying not betray her curiosity. She had never heard of Lord Derbyshire and dreaded to think who he may have promoted during her stint in the Tower.

For the first time since their initial meeting that evening, Henry decided to grace Anne by looking her directly in the eye, and a naughty little smile grew upon his mouth, as though he were a little boy eager to show off some new forbidden toy.

She bit down on her lip to prevent her from asking any more questions. She didn't want to appear overly concerned. But she had to swallow hard in order to try and shift the lump that had now grown so large in her throat that it felt like it would choke her.

Finally, the boy returned with his mistress in tow.

"Darling, please allow me to introduce you to Her Grace, the Duchess of Derbyshire, Lady Jane Seymour" Henry announced as her arch rival approached their throne and dropped into a pretty little curtsy at the King's feet. Anne could feel her cheeks flushing scarlet.

She could not believe that this chit of a girl was meant to be her nemesis.

At the moment she was a picture of angelic virginity in an gown of cream and gold damask, her golden hair flowing down her back and a sweet smile lingering on her rosebud mouth. She looked so sweet, so innocent, as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

_No, butter wouldn't melt in her mouth,_ Anne thought, _ it was sizzle!_

Jane gave a sharp nod of her head towards Anne, not enough for it to be deemed an act of subservience but enough to show respect that an ordained Queen deserved. A feat that no other had bestowed upon her since her return.

It had shocked the Queen that she had behaved so respectfully towards herself, but she still remained wary of her and eyed her suspiciously.

"But we already know each other, Your Majesty" Jane giggled, most amused at the silly antics of the King. Even though she feigned obliviousness, deep down she knew full well what was occurring between the two and watched on in anticipation.

"I am happy to see you so highly promoted, Lady Jane. But pray tell, which lucky man can call you his wife?" Anne eagerly pressed, desperate to know the new hierarchy of court.

Jane blushed slightly.

"I am rather embarrassed, your Majesty. I am still unwedded" was her quiet response, looking down at the floor in that coy manner that Henry adored. She looked up at her from beneath her long, thick eye lashes looking the perfect little nun.

"I see" Anne exclaimed, her mouth opening without her meaning for it to. For a moment, she seemed to resemble a pufferfish. "I see perfectly clear" she repeated, a trill of anger becoming apparent in her tone.

_So she has won the title on her own terms? Even I was not promoted so highly as to be a Duchess in my own right, and I had him eating out of the palm of my hand. What game is she playing? So now she is one of the most __powerful women in the kingdom. She even eclipses my own family in title, well, apart from Uncle Norfolk of course, but I do not know whether to call him friend or foe at the moment._

"Do not create a scene, Anne", Henry warned. "You have made your bed, now you must lie in it" he coolly stated.

But never one to be silenced, Anne dared to continue.

"And I am to be served by this...this...wench? Who won her Dukedom on her back?" she spat, casting the simpering girl a look so poisonous that she resembled a hissing snake.

"She did not win anything on her back, I can assure you of that" Henry's voice boomed throughout the hall causing everyone witihin it to stare at was unfolding before them, "No more than you did" he coldly accused and Anne felt like she could have slapped him for his impertinence.

But instead, she took a deep breath and remembered George's words.

_You are a Boleyn. Nothing gets us down._

She couldn't do it.

"Henry, please..." she began, doing her best to soften her face and sweeten her tone. She was sure she was capable of out sweetening Jane Seymour if she put her mind to it. She placed her hand upon his arm and rubbed it tenderly in an effort to placate him, but it was all for a lost cause.

Henry turned on her.

"Sit!" he commanded, "Enjoy the food, drink the wine. Dance if you wish. And tomorrow night you will prepare yourself for your marital duties. But I shall not sit with you this evening" he informed her in an icy tone.

And as he said this, he gave her a curt bow of the head and walked over to delight in the company of the Duchess of Derbyshire, who threaded her arm within the King's and allowed him to escort her around the court before engaging in a dance him with a dance.

Her face was a picture of blissful happiness.

Anne remembered that look.

She had worn it once herself.

How she longed to look like that again.

At the moment, she felt like she would never smile again.


End file.
